


A Good Man, and A Plan

by maiNuoire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:10:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5437901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maiNuoire/pseuds/maiNuoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek needs a little reminder that he deserves nice things. Stiles has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting the first part while I work on the ending. Probably only one or two more chapters. I promise it's only a little angsty, and there will be a quick resolution to the miscommunication that's making our men unhappy!
> 
> Un-betad, so if you catch a mistake please let me know!
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

There's something going on with Derek. He's back in that place, where he's forgotten he's worthy. It's been a long time since Stiles and the pack had helped Derek see himself, but he's been distant and shying away from signs of affection, and Stiles is worried. Because Derek Hale is a good man, and he's pretty sure that Derek really needs to be reminded of that.

 

Telling him in all the ways that matter, that's something Stiles knows he's pretty great at, he does it every day, in a thousand little ways, because Derek Hale _is_ a good man, and he deserves nice things. And it's past time he remembered that.

 

Stiles has a plan.

 

When Derek returns home, Stiles has dinner waiting; all Derek's favorites. The first and second part of the plan involve taste and visual aids. The “visual” part is mostly for later, when they are wrapped up in moonlight and the bedroom door is closed, but the food is presented professionally plated, and Stiles is wearing an outfit he knows Derek loves on him; dark pants that hug his ass just right, a button down that caresses his shoulders just so, sleeves rolled up to showcase his forearms, because Derek kind of had a thing for his arms. Slightly incongruously, his feet are bare, long toes visibly flexing with each shift in his weight. Derek likes that, too.

 

Derek greets Stiles by pressing a just the right side of chaste kiss to Stiles’ cheek and his gaze drinks in his appearance greedily, his expression appreciative and hungry as he asks “What's all this for, babe?”

 

Stiles chases the kiss briefly before smiling at Derek, projecting all the love and hope he feels into the grin, and letting it infuse his voice “Because I love you, and I wanted to give you something nice.” Stiles cups Derek's cheek fondly, and hopes that the absolute truth of his reply is reflected in his eyes as well, as they meet Derek's own-and Gods, no matter how long they're together, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to catalog all the colors of his eyes.

 

Derek's answering smile is full of love, but Stiles thinks he's missed the overall point. It's ok though, because Stiles likes a challenge. Stiles has a plan.

 

“This all looks great, Stiles. Thank you. You-you look good, too. Special occasion?” He starts off sounding sincere, though there's a tightness around his eyes that Stiles doesn't understand, halfway through, his face hardens almost imperceptibly, but Stiles is fluent in Derek Hale’s Many and Varied Non-Verbal Arguments, so he catches it. And he doesn't miss the way his voice gets strained and high at the end either. Stiles upgrades his level of worry, and tries to steer the tone back to pleasant.

 

“Just you, Sugarwolf,” Stiles assures him cheekily, enjoying the not quite concealed groan and eye roll that garners, “You're all the special I need.” He let's the sincerity creep back in at that, punctuating the statement with a gentle kiss and his arms wound around Derek's neck, Derek stiffens slightly and Stiles heart clenches in his chest, but he places a slightly open mouthed kiss on the side of Derek's neck and whispers in his ear “Always,” his voice breathier and sadder than he intended, but it seems to relax Derek slightly, as he moves his hands from where they rest leadenly on Stiles’ hips to wrap his arms securely around Stiles -one at his shoulder, the other low around his waist- and pull him closer.

 

Stiles presses close, trying to keep the mounting worry out of his scent. Moments later, Derek's grip relaxes into something less desperate, and they both pull away slowly. Stiles trails his fingers down Derek's arm to catch his hands, eyes trained on the ocean at sunrise colored ones in front of him, close enough to catalog the individual lines of blue and green and gold, and hopes to see a clue there. “You ok, Der?”

 

Derek smiles a small smile and kisses Stiles’ nose, dismissively “Sure, never better.”

  
Stiles let's the lie go for the moment, he has a plan, there's time. “Alright then, let's eat while it's hot,” Stiles turns away and presses PLAY on the remote to their stereo. Phase three involves sound. A mix Stiles made of all Derek's favorites and all the songs that had significant meaning to them. The soundtrack to their evening should feel like a warm, rhythmic caress. It should sing to him a chorus of _“I love you, You're perfect, I love you,”_ like the meal should fill his mouth and his belly and his nose with _“I pay attention, You're worth the effort, you matter,_ ” like Stiles’ outfit choice should speak softly and reassuringly that _“I'm yours, forever, all for you, the things you like are important.”_

Stiles hopes he's listening. Because Derek Hale is a good man, and Stiles plans to keep him forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dance, a shower, heaps of loving on Derek. Stiles has the best plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! The response to this has been so great, thank you so much!
> 
> I think there'll be one, maybe two more chapters in this, and the misunderstanding will be all cleared up at the start of the next part, so don't fret (this is not the Substitutions and Additions verse, it's not going to hurt like that, promise!)
> 
> Also, I couldn't decide what song was "theirs" and really wanted to post this, so I'm going to write a little separate flashback fic of their first dance, so help me pick a song! Leave 'em in the comments!
> 
> Enjoy!

Dinner conversation is mercifully easier, Stiles tries to focus on light topics like work and weekend plans, letting Derek lead the flow of conversation. The only hiccup comes when the new guy at Stiles’ office comes up. Stiles has been working a lot with him lately, training him to take over Stiles’ position for a while in preparation for a hiatus that he desperately hopes he'll need to take. When the new guy's name comes up, Derek’s mouth tightens ever so slightly, and his eyes go from animated to shuttered. Stiles quickly changes topics, going he successfully hides his reaction, which is somewhere between confusion and panic.

 

After they finish eating, Derek stands and begins to clear the dishes. Stiles reaches out to stop him with a hand on his forearm and a shake of his head. “Dance with me, babe?” He smiles and ruthlessly holds back the anxiety he feels swoop in when it takes Derek a second to reply.

 

The relief he feels when Derek puts the dishes in his hand down and says a soft, uncertain “O-kay,” is so sharp he almost loses his breath, and he know Derek can sense it. Derek's slightly confused expression confirms it, but Stiles chooses to ignore it in favor of taking Derek's offered hands and standing from his seat to lead him to an open area where they can dance.

 

Part four of the plan involves touching. Lots of touching. It ties in with part two, the visual aid, but that's for later. Now, it's about Derek's hand in his, their free arms holding each other loosely, Derek's heartbeat gently echoing in his ear where his head rests on Derek's shoulder. He timed this well; their song, the first one they ever danced to is about to start and Stiles pulls away slightly so he can cup Derek's face and look into his eyes. He squeezes Derek's left hand where they're still linked, caresses the backs of his fingers, lingering briefly on the one next to his pinky and considers the small box he has hidden upstairs in their bedroom.

 

He can't help but smile as he gently draws his thumb over Derek's bottom lip, reveling in its softness and the way it makes Derek's pupils dilate and his breath stutter ever so slightly. As the first notes of their song weave their way around them, Derek's expression melts into fondness devoid of any lingering apprehension, and he smiles and breathes a soft “Stiles,” into the space between them. Stiles uses their joined hands to guide Derek's to settle at the small of his back and slowly pulls his arm away from Derek's cheek, gently stroking as much of Derek as possible as he does, dragging his fingers along the length of Derek's arm, to wind his own around Derek's neck. He stares searchingly into the infinite colors of his boyfriend's eyes and lets his expression get dreamy (it's not difficult, anytime he really thinks about him and Derek being _StilesandDerek_ he gets starry eyes and dopey smiled.)

 

He feels a little triumphant when Derek matches his gaze and tightens his hold ever so slightly. The plan is totally working.

 

“I was already so totally in love with you by the time we first danced to this song,” Stiles accompanies this statement with fingers gently raked through Derek's hair. Part five of the plan is words; Stiles is good with words. Though really, words are sounds, which is already a step, but this is a separate and unique step; it's a multi faceted plan. “I remember thinking ‘ _finally, all these years dancing around each other, and we're finally dancing together_ ’. By the time the first chorus ended, I knew you were it for me.” Stiles wishes, and not for the first time, that he also had werewolf senses, because Derek's face and his body language and his eyebrows are doing things that even Stiles with his advanced eyebrow interpretation skills can't decipher.

 

So he ignores the wetness in Derek's eyes, holds him a little closer, presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes, forcing himself not to squeeze them shut, and exhales a sincere and slightly desperate “I love you, Der. So much,” before burrowing his face into Derek's neck and tightening his embrace. Derek responds in kind, holding him close until they're just embracing in the middle of their dining area, gently swaying to the music. Stiles kisses Derek's neck and pushes his hand into his hair and tries to keep his other hand from clutching Derek's shoulder and he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he lets it out in an almost gasp when Derek whispers “I love you, too,” into Stiles’ shoulder.

 

They stay like that for a few songs, clinging to each other and not quite dancing, Stiles gently caressing the nape of Derek's neck, the space between his shoulders, tracing his nose along Derek's jaw. Eventually, their hold relaxes and they're almost in a normal position for a dance. Stiles is feeling a little raw, wants to just ask, to say “ _I'm here, baby, whatever is wrong, I'm here and there's nothing we can't handle together_ ” but he will stick with the plan, because Derek needs to feel the truth of it, not just hear it, even if he can literally hear lies.

 

So as a song they'd danced to at Scott's wedding ends, Stiles pulls away to look at Derek and smiles, mostly because he can't help but smile when looking at him, and places a small kiss on his lips. “Why don't you go start the shower, I'll clean up and join you in a minute, alright?” He punctuates the question with a peck of a kiss, a slight nip to Derek's lower lip and a patented Stilinski eyebrow wriggle to lighten the mood. Derek's not quite suppressed eye roll, and the heat simmering in his gaze brings a grin to Stiles’ face. He steps away, sliding his hands over Derek's shoulders, down his arms to hold his hands briefly before letting them go with a squeeze and a “Go on, babe. I'm right behind you.”

 

Derek chases his retreat to kiss him, cradling his face like Stiles is precious and tracing the seam of his lips with his tongue until Stiles opens to give him access to lick into his mouth. Which Derek does with enthusiasm. Stiles’ heart beats a happy victory rhythm in his chest as his own tongue eagerly twirls with Derek's, his hands finding Derek's face and stroking his stubbled cheeks, moaning low in his throat and molding himself to the long line of Derek's body. With a final deep thrust of his tongue into Stiles’ mouth, Derek gentles the kiss enough that they can part, stepping away leaving them both panting and slightly dazed. His hands linger on Stiles’ face, Stiles’ hands rest heavily on Derek's forearms and they stare at one another through lust clouded eyes for an indeterminate number of moments before Derek says with a want-roughened voice a simple “Hurry,” and backs away before turning to leave.

 

Stiles watches him go, touching two fingers to his kiss swollen lips and feels the smile that curves there. He has the best plans.

 

The sound of the shower coming on, the pipe rattling briefly as they come to life, spurs him into action. He quickly clears the table, puts leftovers away, and gives the dishes a cursory rinse before placing them in the dishwasher. He may regret not taking the time to clean them properly tomorrow when he has to soak and scrub the bits that he's leaving behind, but Derek is upstairs, in their shower. _Sans clothing_. Naked. And wet. Oh, who is he kidding, there will be no regrets, he'll buy new dishes, Derek Hale is wet and naked and waiting for him. Stiles has his priorities in order. And he has his plan.

 

And a rather insistent erection.

 

Stiles turns off the stereo and the lights, checks that the door is locked and heads upstairs. Derek turns when he enters their bathroom, watching him through the steadily fogging glass door as he slowly ( _slowly, Stiles, remember the plan!_ ) unbuttons his shirt, the red cotton darkening slightly in the close, damp air. Derek's eyes follow his fingers as they release each button, unroll his sleeves and skim the material off his shoulders. He can feel the weight of Derek's stare as he unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his pants, he doesn't miss the way Derek licks his lips in anticipation, can't not hear the moan he makes when Stiles slowly lowers his zipper and the sound seems to echo unnaturally loudly in the room, though logically it can't be heard over the rush of the water or the roar of arousal, not even (he imagines) by werewolf ears.

 

As he lets his pants and boxer briefs fall to pool at his feet, a breathless “Stiles,” falls from Derek's lips, and Stiles notices his hand curled loosely around his cock as he eyes Stiles’ erection. Stiles most certainly does not whimper, but a small sound of want does escape him, and he steps out of his pants to join his love in the shower. It's time to deploy steps four and five, touch and words, and Stiles can't wait another minute to feel all that warm, slick skin.

 

He wraps his arms around Derek's back and moves in close to share the warm, soothing spray of the water, and the warmer feel of _home_ of Derek's embrace. Derek's arms wrap around him, his chin settles on his shoulder, and the feeling of relief and calm that overtakes him even as the wet slide of warm flesh sends a new flash of arousal through him is all encompassing. Derek seems to share his sentiment, as he released a matching happy sigh as they sink into one another’s hold.

 

After several content moments, hands begin to wander heated skin; Derek's palms press firmly against Stiles’ hip and lower back, fingertips resting just at the top of the swell of his ass, Stiles’ hands skate gently up Derek's spine, one follows a trail of water to rest on Derek's hip; his long fingers stroking the side of Derek's thigh, thumb digging lightly into the crease of his groin and tapping a teasing rhythm there. Stiles places hot, open mouth kisses over Derek's neck and shoulder, murmuring “You taste so good, Der. You feel so good, everything I've ever wanted, here in my arms,” between gentle bites and tasting licks, his hands never stilling as he lets them map the beloved terrain of Derek's body, lets them trace promises and endearments into his flesh. Small, red lines from blunt, human nails that whisper _“I want you_ " long after they disappear with supernatural speed. An indented crescent of teeth that won't stay marked on Derek's skin for long, but will still claim him, still say “ _you're mine as I am yours_ " as clearly as a tattoo or a song or a dance in an eat in kitchen. Slow, branding kisses and hot, eager swipes of tongue, a gentle roll of hips to press the length of his very interested dick into Derek's equally hard length, all wordless exclamations of love and devotion, need and want and _please_.

 

Stiles breaks the kiss to lave and bite a trail down the long column of Derek's throat, across his chest to place a sucking kiss on each rosy nipple. Derek clenches his hands where they rest on Stiles’ hips, fingers digging in with bruising strength as he groans and Stiles feels the vibration throughout his entire body. Stiles fights the urge to just drop to his knees and take Derek's cock into his mouth, he wants so badly to, but- the plan. The plan is about taking care of Derek, making him feel cherished and loved and worthy, and Stiles is going to cherish the shit out of him; take such good care of him that Derek will feel the echoes of Stiles’ devotion for weeks, months, _years_. Stiles will make sure Derek doesn't forget again that he deserves happiness, and that they are making a life of happiness together.

 

Stiles feels a knot of emotion in his belly as the thoughts in his head ricochet at lightning speed, but the feel of Derek's chest under his fingertips and against his lips help him focus. He continues his descent, leaving a meandering trail of kisses and caresses across Derek's abs, his belly, in the V of his hips. Derek's hands move to Stiles’ head and shoulder, and his head drops back on a moan exposing the line of his throat and something primal in Stiles, something cultivated over years of running with wolves, rejoices and triumphs at the sign of submission and trust. Stiles can't help but groan in response as he licks a long stripe into the crease where Derek's thigh meets his groin and nuzzles his nose against the heat of Derek's shaft.

 

Stiles indulges his desire for Derek's cock in his mouth for just a moment, taking his length in short bobs of his head until he feels Derek nudge at the back of his throat; they release matching sounds of pleasure and Stiles feels his own dick pulse in response. Stiles looks up and meets Derek's gaze, holds it for a moment as he swallows around Derek and pulls back slowly, releasing Derek with a soft pop. Derek drags his thumb over Stiles’ lower lip, resting it in the middle, briefly pulling it down with the weight of his lax hand. “Fuck, baby, your _mouth,_ ” comes out on a breathy drawl and the way Derek sounds when he says it, full of awe and affection, affects Stiles like a caress.

 

Keeping his gaze locked on Derek's, Stiles reaches for the barely scented soap that Derek prefers and begins to build a lather in his hands. He moves his soapy hands to massage Derek's calves, up his thighs, imbuing each stroke with reverence and careful attention, gently kneading muscles and lovingly scratching at dark hair dusted skin. Stiles stands, re-lathering his hands as already washed away bubbles rush toward the drain; eyes still on his beloved’s, he sweeps broad circles over Derek's chest and stomach, teasing his nipples with a hint of a scrape with his thumb just to watch Derek's pupils dilate and his breath catch. “I love that I get to see you like this, to touch you like this. That you trust me to see you wanting and honest, it means the world to me, Derek. You,” he has to stop to kiss him, to chase away the strange- resignation?- that was edging into Derek's expression, to remind them both how they fought to get to this place where they could be naked and open and together, “You are the whole world to me, Derek Hale.” It's strange to speak the words out loud, they seem like they should be whispered, should be woven into poetry instead of spoken above the sound of falling water speeding through pipework, but Stiles thinks maybe their incongruous volume is necessary for this moment.

 

Derek doesn't reply for a long moment, but he relaxes into Stiles’ touch, so Stiles counts it as a win and asks gently “Turn around, love,” and helps guide Derek so his back is facing him, places a long kiss in the center of Derek's tattoo, and begins to wash his back and arms with long soapy strokes. He presses himself flush against Derek's back to take each of Derek's strong hands in his own, gently rubbing between each long finger, pressing firmly into the Derek's palms, soothing away tension and leaving a kiss in the center. The angle and their position should make it awkward, but their equal height allows Stiles to rest his chin on Derek's shoulder, his arms easily reaching and maneuvering Derek's limbs. And Derek lets him. Let's himself be cared for, be held. Let's Stiles speak quietly into his ear “I want to always do this, have you in my arms. Have your skin against mine, under my lips,” Stiles pauses between every few words to kiss and lick at the place just behind his ear, the hinge of his jaw. Derek moans and pushes back into Stiles’ still hard erection, asking without saying anything, snaking his arm up and back to hold Stiles’ head, lets his head fall to Stiles’ shoulder. He feels the curve of Stiles’ smile against neck and shivers.

 

Stiles rocks gently against Derek's ass and drags his hand down his stomach to take hold of Derek's cock with a long, smooth stroke from base to tip. He repeats the motion as Derek makes encouraging little thrusts, driving his shaft through Stiles’ still soap slicked hand. Stiles takes a moment to enjoy the pressure moving against his now fully reawakened erection before pulling his other arm from where it rests on Derek's chest to quickly work a lather from the soap and step back ever so slightly. He makes just enough room so he can sneak his hand between their pressed together bodies, so he can press two fingers against Derek's rim and draw small circles around the sensitive skin there. Derek's rocking stills for half a second before growing more insistent, his breath coming in long, dragging gasps.

 

Stiles keeps speaking into Derek's ear, tone low and calm and fond. “You're so fucking beautiful, Der. So beautiful. Later, I'm going to taste you here,” he presses against Derek's hole causing the other man to groan and curse loudly. Stiles’ cock leaks a little at the sound. “I'm going to make you come with just my tongue,” he's getting carried away, revealing a little of the plan, but he can't help himself, the reaction he's getting is intoxicating, Derek is making low desperate sounds and practically bucking into Stiles fist, grinding into his fingers. Stiles might come just from this. He continues “and my fingers, and you're going to see how incredible you are, baby. I'm going to show you, and I'm going to make you believe it. Gonna show you how good you are,” Stiles can't stop the flow of words from falling past his lips, he feels tears rolling down his face even through the misty air of the shower, though his voice doesn't betray his growing desperation for his plan to work.

 

He hopes he manages to keep it from Derek's enhanced senses, hopes that Derek is too lost in his approaching orgasm to get a hint from his scent. He redoubles his effort to focus on Derek, pushing the tip of a finger into the warm clench of Derek's passage, pushing in further slowly, carefully aware of their less than adequate lube, expertly seeking his prostate. He gradually increases the pressure of his strokes and revels in the pulse of Derek's dick in his hand, lets his own hardness trail along the seam of Derek's ass. Derek is wild in his arms, fingers of one hand buried in Stiles’ hair, the other gripping Stiles thigh. He's panting and groaning and babbling a string of _“yes, Stiles, please. There, just like- fuck. Fuckfuckfu- yes, Gods, love you, please please_ ,” and Stiles feels himself falling apart right along with him before he gathers his wits.

 

“Come for me, Derek. I've got you, you can come now, I'm here,” Stiles reassures, voice steady though he is aching for his own release. “Let me hear you, baby. I love the sounds you make when you come, Der. Come,” Derek’s body goes taut for a moment, and then he is shooting heavy ropes of come over Stiles’ hand, and his ass is greedily holding onto Stiles' fingers as they brush his prostate. The heat of Derek's spend is a pleasant burning where it slide over his fingers, even over the warmth of the shower and the steam filling the enclosed space.

 

Stiles gently removes his fingers from their respective places and wraps his arms securely around Derek, who is trembling slightly and catching his breath. “You did so good for me, Derek, you're so good for me. Every way I can mean that, I do, babe.” He thinks that maybe those were too many words for just now, even as they were mostly whispered and broken up by open mouthed kisses anywhere he could reach, but words are part of the plan, so he lets the worry go. “Let's get you dry, babe,” Stiles says through a small smile, as Derek turns his face into Stiles’ neck to smile and hum a soft noise of agreement and kiss Stiles there.

 

Stiles turns off the water and steps carefully out, pulling Derek along gently. He dries him with a fluffy, oversized towel, his movements full of reverence, looking at Derek often, encouraged by the easy smile and relaxed brow. He towels himself off quickly, wincing slightly as the soft cotton rubs against his ignored erection, and reaches for Derek's hands, backing out of the bathroom on sure feet, both of them wearing nothing but grins, Stiles says gently “Come on, Der, I want to show you something.”

 

Derek follows, and Stiles prepares for the most crucial part of the plan.

  
It's time for visual aids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: a ringing phone, an argument, and a mirror!
> 
> Any guesses what has Derek worried? Share 'em in the comments, if you're right, I'll send a puppy*!
> 
> *Disclaimer: no actual puppies will be sent, it's illegal to ship puppies via the postal service (I assume?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds out why Derek has been distant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had planned to wrap up this part of the story in this chapter, but I have had this part sitting in my WIP folder for a while, and I was feeling crappy for not updating and getting distracted by porny one-shots and writing random not!fics on tumblr.  
> This story, and Substitutions and Additions are kind of my babies, in that they broke me out of a long bout of writers block, and I kind of love the characters in them, and I want to do them justice. So, here is a slightly shorter than planned for update, but I hope you like it anyway!
> 
> Next time: VISUAL AIDS! And so much Derek Hale being praised!

As they exit the bathroom, Stiles is happily taking in Derek's fond, sex-dazed expression when the last few bars of “Hungry Like the Wolf" echoes up the stairs. Stiles has apparently forgotten to put his phone on silent, oops. Derek can't contain his eye roll, but Stiles just grins at him; his ringtone is hilarious, anyone who doesn't agree has never seen Derek's face when it plays. That ringtone is hysterical. “Oops,” Stiles says through a grin, “forgot to turn that off.”

 

“Do you need to check that? It might be work, your dad...” Derek is thinking of potential emergencies, which is not part of the plan. The beginnings of worry on his face is unacceptable. Stiles squeezes his hands.

 

“Nope, I talked to dad earlier, he and Melissa are seeing a late movie. And the perks of being in charge is that you can delegate, babe. I set any work calls to be routed to Erica or Ben, Ben can handle anything that comes up tonight. The only thing that matters right now is this,” he swings their still linked hands, smiling sincerely, but Derek's expression has closed off and he pulls his hands away to cross his arms over his chest, it's a stance made no less intimidating by his complete lack of clothing, but Stiles is just confused, can only manage an uncertain “Der?”

 

“Oh, I'm sure _Ben_ can handle it, he's _so skilled_ at what he does, right?” He says “Ben" like it's some particularly vicious disease strain, the disdain in the emphasized words practically dripping from his voice. Stiles isn't scared of Derek, never really was, even in their early days, and now he is fluent in Derek Hale's Body Language, and his Many Varied Eyebrow Scrunches, and the super communicative Set of His Jaw, and all of those things are easily interpreted now. Derek isn't angry, he's hurt and he's _scared,_ and the pieces are starting to slot together in Stiles’ head.

 

The distance, the sometimes desperate affection these last few weeks, the dulling of his beautiful eyes when Stiles would mention staying late at work, or training with Ben- oh. Oh, no. How could he ever think- how could Stiles have missed this? A strangled, startled sound escapes Stiles’ throat, and Derek must great the question there, or read it on his face, or just really need to say it all, because before Stiles can even fully form the thought _Derek thinks I'm cheating_ , he is speaking again, the pain in his voice like a knife in Stiles’ gut.

 

“You _work late_ three or four nights a week, with _Ben_ , you talk about him all the time, you smell happy when you talk about him, you smell _like_ him, I- I found your notes _‘ask Ben about dates’_ You didn't even hide them” Derek can't seem to continue, and he is no longer looking at Stiles, his gaze somewhere between Stiles’ shoulder and their bed behind him.

 

“This-” Stiles clears his throat, “This is why you've been so- oh, babe, I'm so sorry” Stiles moves forward, right into Derek's space. He carefully pries Derek’s arms apart from where they rest on his own biceps, resettling one on his lower back, relief rushing through him when Derek grips him tighter; even if it's just years of habit, it's a relief. He takes the other hand in both of his, kissing Derek's palm and pressing it over his heart. He rests his left hand over Derek's, holding it carefully, and rests his own palm against Derek's cheek, fingers splayed wide so his pinky rests just under Derek's ear. “Look at me, Der, please.” Derek does, and Stiles releases a held breath and the corners of his mouth lift a tiny little bit, because this is fixable; this is just a stupid misunderstanding, not something _actually_ wrong.

 

“You beautiful, absolute idiot,” Stiles says, “idiot" coming out like “sweetheart" would, an endearment. “We are both so, so dumb, baby. You feel my heart? You know I can't lie to you, yeah?” Stiles’ eyes search Derek's for a sign that the man he loves is listening, and finds his gaze desperately searching right back. “Can I explain?” Derek shuts his eyes for a long moment and nods, unconsciously leaning into Stiles’ touch before meeting his eyes again.

 

“I'm training Ben, hey-” he smoothes Derek's brow when it furrows again at the mention of the name, “I'm training him to take over for me for a while, ah, shh, I'll get there,” Stiles places a finger over Derek's lips, silencing the question he was forming at the news of Stiles’ planned hiatus from work. “I'm happy when I talk about his _skill_ because it means I can trust him to take care of the company in my absence. The “dates" were potential test runs with Ben in charge. I smell like him because we spend most of the day together, there are shoulder pats and fist bumps, nothing even as bromantic as I am with Scott, and absolutely, one thousand percent truthfully, no anything remotely like this.” Stiles makes his point with a loving caress of Derek's face, his thumb tracing Derek's lips. “This is just for you, babe. I am so sorry that I didn't catch this, but you have to talk to me, Der. If you thought I was- you thought I was _unfaithful_ ,” the word leaves a bad taste in his mouth, “how could you even _look_ at me?”

 

Derek swallows thickly and looks away, his whole body tensing, and oh no, this will not do. Stiles moves Derek's hand from his heart to join its twin at the small of his back, winding his own arms around Derek's neck and placing a kiss at the center of his bottom lip. “Hey, talk to me,” Stiles rests his forehead against Derek's, taking a deep breath and bracing himself. He knows what's coming, he built a whole plan around reminding Derek that he deserves nice things: happiness, and romance, and Stiles, but it's going to hurt to hear it out loud.

 

“I thought I must have done something-failed, somehow. I figured I would wait, um, wait until you decided to leave. That I'd just ta- take what I could get, whatever I could have of you, I'd take it and make it enough. I just, I couldn't lose you, Stiles. I _can't_ lose you. And I thought, even if you didn't want me, I could just wait it out. I-" Stiles can't hear anymore, his heart is aching and this man in front of him is breaking open, and Stiles is going to put him back together. He kisses Derek, stopping the flow of his heartbreak, a hard press of lips quickly gentled to a embrace, their arms drawing each other closer as their lips do the same.

 

Stiles pulls away slowly, their lips clinging as surely as their arms, “Derek Hale, you deserve a whole life, baby. You deserve someone who loves you with their whole being, and you have that, I swear it. You _have me_. Always and forever, Der, you have me. You hear my heart?”

 

“Yeah,” Derek's voice is thick with emotion, but he smiles through it, genuine and lacking any of its recently accustomed tightness.

 

Stiles moves so he's speaking into Derek's ear, “Then you should know it beats only for you. Only for you, Derek.” He moves back to look into Derek's eyes, “I hate that you thought I was cheating, but I hate that you thought you deserved it so much more. You have to know, don't you know after all this time, how incredible you are?”

 

“Stiles? I try, I try to be a man that deserves you. But I need to know you- when I said I had found your notes, your heart got fast for a moment, you smelled anxious. Is there- is there something else you're keeping from me? Please, I just need to know.” Stiles hates himself a little for a minute, hates the hurt he has caused the man he loves, the secret he is definitely still keeping, but it's a _surprise_ , not really a secret. And he has a plan to see through before he can get that one rolling.

 

So he says honestly, “Yes, but I promise it's only a surprise.”

 

“A surprise that has something to do with Ben running the company for a while?”

 

Derek's skepticism is palpable, but Stiles figures it's justified, all things considered. “Yes, now, can I please show you the very important thing I was trying to show you earlier?” Stiles lets his enthusiasm for the plan creep back into his voice.

 

Derek replies with a slightly exasperated “Fine, show me this important thing,” and a fond smile. Stiles returns a small grin and steps away briefly to take Derek's hand.

 

Stiles pauses before leading him the rest of the way across their bedroom, he turns and asks quietly, looking at Derek from under his lashes, “Forgive me?” He sounds like he's begging, even to his own ears, and honestly, he is.

  
Derek's reply is a simple, sincere “Always.” So Stiles continues toward the far corner of the room where a free standing, antique mirror holds court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/poetry-protest-pornography) !


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